by V. Vaughn
“No. This is the first time I’ve travelled a great distance from my home. The scenery is wonderful.”
“I suppose getting used to all these trees will take a while.”
Tristan says, “I think you’ll like it, Mom. There’s so much to look at, and I know how you’ll be fascinated by the detail.”
He says to me, “My mother’s a painter. She does lovely watercolors.”
The older woman smiles. “You’re kind. They’re nothing special. Just something I do for fun.” Her glass scrapes on the wood table as she twirls it around, and I watch and wonder why she’s fidgeting. She notices and asks, “Is there anything I can do to help for dinner? I’m terribly antsy.”
Tristan scowls at her, and I say, “Sure. I could use help with the salad.”
“I’ll take you for a run after dinner, Mom,” says Tristan. His tone is cool as if he’s scolding her.
The cutting board thuds on the counter, and I hand her cucumbers and a knife. Helga says, “Yes. I think I’ll need that, too. Thank you.”
I glance at Tristan to see if he wants to explain what’s going on, but he avoids my gaze, so I bring peanut butter crackers to the children. When I return, I stare in amazement at Helga chopping the vegetables as if she’s in a race. But when she starts to hum and move to the beat of her song, her happiness is contagious, and I join in and grab a tomato to dice. I’m not sure what Tristan meant by his mother being difficult, because right now she’s very pleasant.
Dinner is a delight. The girls are polite but answer my questions when asked. Helga makes us laugh with her funny stories, and I wonder if the death of her difficult husband has allowed sunshine back into her life. I’m pleasantly surprised that this is not the woman I expected from Tristan’s veiled warnings. I smile with relief that she’s going to be a positive addition to my family.
After dinner, Tristan takes his mother out into the woods, and I run a bath for the girls in my oversized tub. I let them each have a special scrub puff and pour in lavender bath salts so they’ll feel pampered. When I lift their thin bodies in one by one, I’m startled by their bony frames. Tears of despair burn my eyes. If I’d known they were starving, I’d have forced Tristan to call for them sooner.
When the kids are in their pajamas and their hair has been dried, they climb into their beds. Ellie says, “Granny says you’re going to marry our daddy.”
“I am.”
She lies down, and I pull the covers over her and tuck them under the mattress to make them tight.
Echo asks, “Are you going to wear a pretty dress?”
“I sure hope so.” I work on tucking her in. “Would you like to wear one, too? I think I need three flower girls.”
She asks, “What’s a flower girl?”
“You know when the bride walks down the aisle to the groom?” Three little blond heads nod, and I make a note to teach them to say yes instead. “Well, before she does, the bridesmaids walk down. But even before them, we need little fairy princesses”—I point to each one as if I have a magic wand—“to get things ready.”
Eva asks, “And we get to carry flowers?”
“Yes.” I move to her bed as I give them a secretive smile. “But wait until you hear the best part. You get to pluck the petals off the flowers and drop them for the bride to walk on.”
Echo looks horrified while Eva and Ellie clap their hands with glee.
I ask, “Echo, what’s wrong?”
“The poor flowers. Imagine if I pulled your petals off,” she finishes with a frown.
I give her a serious look. “I see what you mean.” I tap my chin. “What should we do instead?”
“We should give everyone a flower.” Her voice rings true as if she knows all.
“That’s a lovely idea.” I glance over at Ellie and Eva in their beds. “What do you say, girls?”
Ellie’s eyes are droopy, and she yawns while Eva says, “Okay.” But she’s just as tired and rolls over. I walk slowly to the door and flip off the light. I turn to gaze at the three beautiful children who will soon be my daughters. Tears fill my eyes as I realize I’m living the dream I was afraid could never be mine.
Chapter 37
Isabelle
I drag my hand along the clothing that hangs in my closet. The textures are smooth against my fingers as I marvel at the vast array before me. Once I moved in with Luke, he gave me a debit card to use for anything I wanted. My new wardrobe is one of the benefits of a rich mate.
I pull a red shirt off a hanger and slip it over my head. The silk is high quality and drapes nicely over my body. My renewed bond with Luke has put us back into the heady zone of fresh love, and we’re going out to dinner to celebrate at the same restaurant where we met. My insides tremble a bit at the memory of his hand between my legs that first night, and I search for a short skirt to replace the black pants I had originally picked.
I let the slacks slither down my legs and bend over to retrieve them from the floor. Luke lets out a sexy growl as he approaches from the bathroom. “You keep your ass just like that, and we can forget about dinner.”
When I stand up, his hands land on my hips, but I twist away to face him and wave a finger. “Uh-uh. We’ll miss our reservation.”
He lets out a sigh and removes his towel from his waist to rub his hair. I take in his muscular body. Youth definitely has its advantages. As he walks toward his closet, I get a nice view of his round, hard backside, and I ask, “Speaking of sexy asses, can I make a request?”
I wiggle into my skirt and drag my thong down my legs to step out of it. The fabric is warm and damp in my hand as I wad it up and toss it at Luke. “No underwear for either of us.”
My mate waggles his eyebrows. “You are such a naughty girl.”
I slide my hands down my hips seductively. “And you’re a naughty boy.”
“You have no idea. You’ve inspired me.”
I slip a foot slowly into a red stiletto heel. “I can’t wait to find out.”
Luke licks his lips as he watches me. I saunter over to him and notice beads of moisture on his chest from his shower. I lean down and lick him with my tongue up toward his neck to capture them. He grabs my bottom and grips tightly, so I ask, “Are you going to be the appetizer, main course, or dessert?”
He answers me with a searing kiss that says he’s all three. When he’s done, he says, “Stop distracting me.”
I chuckle as I walk away.
When we’re finally in his BMW, on our way to the restaurant, I gaze out at the sunset that turns the sky bright orange. This time of year back home, the sun never goes down. I’m growing accustomed to more evenly spaced nights and days. I wonder if it will help my mother’s sleep patterns. Guilt niggles at me, because I haven’t contacted Tristan to see how her arrival was. But I’m sure he’ll pull me in, making it impossible to ignore Helga’s presence.
Luke must be in tune with my thoughts, because he asks, “Do you plan to see your mother tomorrow?”
I glance down at my bracelet, and the silver bangle is hard in my fingers as I fiddle with it. “I know I should, but I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Would you like me to come with you? My last final is in the morning.” His strong arms move as he turns the wheel to steer us onto a different road.
“That’s sweet.” I reach over and take the hand he offers me. “But I should see her without you first.”
“Tell me about her, Izzy. I want to understand.”
I decide to throw him a bone. “My mother is two extremes. She can be wonderful and charm even the grouchiest bear.” I smile as I remember crazy childhood adventures. “When she’s happy, she’s fun.” We hit a pothole, and the jolt makes me hit my elbow on the door. I wince at the pain. “But when she’s mad…” When I don’t continue, Luke doesn’t push.
He may think he understands, but he has no idea, and I don’t know how to give him a taste without opening up more emotions than I’d like to deal with tonight. “Have you decided wh
at you’re going to do this summer?”
He sighs. “My dad’s really pushing me to work for him, but that means I’ll be inside all day.”
Luke’s father is a lawyer, and my mate is being groomed to become a partner when he eventually graduates from law school. Luke has never had a summer job, and he’s balking at the idea that he doesn’t get to play. I glance over at my man-child, and a pang of longing for a carefree life hits me. The past few months of not worrying how I was going to eat have been glorious, and I don’t want them to end.
I squeeze his hand and let go to place my palm on his thigh. “If you end up having to go to the law office, you should know that a man in a suit works for me.” I move my fingers up closer to his lap. “Especially when he goes commando.”
Luke grabs my hand and places it over his large fabric-covered dick. “Don’t make me pull over.”
I growl and snap at him so he will.
Our little pit stop makes us late for the reservation, but one charming smile from Luke is all it takes to smooth things over with the hostess. She takes us to a table in the back corner, and I grin when I realize how private it is. Potted plants stand almost six feet tall and block off the space so that one has to be almost upon us to see what we’re doing. My mate did indeed have plans for tonight.
Once we’re seated and the waiter has taken our drink order, Luke says, “I know you tried to avoid this earlier, but I think you need to talk to me about your mother.”
“Luke, it’s a complicated situation.”
He strokes my cheek with his finger, and I lean into his touch. “Tell me about it. My parents aren’t true mates, and I’m not even sure they like each other.”
“Really?”
Two vodka martinis arrive, and we sit back to let the server set them down. I lift mine as Luke says, “And to make matters worse, a little over a year ago, we found out that my mother had a child with a human before she married my father.”
I gulp my mouthful of alcohol. “Oh my god.” I recall that Carly is related to Luke. “Wait. Is it—”
“Carly Le Roux. All this time I had a big sister and didn’t even know.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“So she was raised as a human?” I shudder, imagining what it would be like to live with only people.
“Yes. She was changed by her true mate.”
This is interesting. I didn’t know that Carly was a new werebear. Heck, I didn’t know a half-breed could even become a werebear. But what’s even more interesting is that my golden-boy mate has a family with baggage. “Wow. I had no idea.”
“So tell me about your parents. What is it about them that gives you those nightmares?”
I trace the edge of my martini glass with my finger, and a memory of my father flashes. Vodka was his drink of choice, and I recall the way he would hold up a glass of liquid to the darkness outside as if he were cursing it. Then he’d drink it down at once. I don’t look at Luke when I say, “My father was an alcoholic. A mean one.”
Luke knows my father is dead. He flips my arm over and traces a long scar on the underside of my arm as if he knows who inflicted it. I turn to him, but tears fill my eyes, and I swallow hard as I look away.
“Is he the one who causes the nightmares?”
I shake my head. My bad dreams aren’t just about my past. They’re also about my fear of the future. “No.” I take a deep breath and turn back to face Luke. I scoot to the edge of my chair and lean in to whisper in Luke’s ear. “So about that appetizer. I’m craving something salty.”
I slither out of my seat and under the table. The grind of my mate’s zipper tells me he’s on board with my plan, and I cast away all thoughts of my family as I focus on making the man who loves me happy.
Chapter 38
Annie
It’s late when Tristan and his mother get back from their run. I was worried at first, but when I inquired, my mate assured me all was well. Helga comes in from the mudroom and drops down to a kitchen chair with a sigh. “That was interesting. I’ve never had to pick my way through the forest. I’m used to wide-open spaces.”
“I’ll bet. Did Tristan take you to the river?”
“Yes. Your water is so warm, though. I can’t believe it’s only going to get hotter.” She fans herself with a hand. “How ever do you stay cool all summer long?”
“Air conditioning. Believe it or not, people come to Maine in the summer to vacation because it’s even hotter in the southern states.”
Tristan enters the kitchen and asks, “Shall I make tea?”
Helga and I nod at him as she continues speaking, “Heavens. I’m grateful the Northeast Kingdom welcomed us.”
The teakettle bangs as Tristan sets it on the burner.
Helga turns to him. “Can you imagine if we’d taken the Southern Cross Kingdom up on their offer?”
He smiles at her and then glances at me. “I’d never have met my Annie. I can’t imagine it at all.”
I gaze at him and try to remember life before we met. “Me, either.” I get up from the table to gather the selection of teas I have in the pantry. Tristan catches me by my waist as I walk by and pulls me close to give me a quick kiss. I’m touched by the tender gesture in front of his mother.
She says, “I noticed all those plants in pots you have everywhere. Tristan tells me you have quite the eye for gardening.”
I bring a basket of tea bags over and sit across from her. “I love my gardens and spend too many hours in them half of the year. And then too much time designing and redesigning them the other half.”
Tea bags rustle as Helga sifts through them.
Tristan says, “She’s not kidding. There’s an entire sketchbook dedicated to them. Every plant out there already has a place. I’ll bet Annie even has the diagrams color coded so nobody could possibly get it wrong.”
“I’d love to say that’s not true, but it is.” I grin at Helga. “I’m a bit of a control freak, but I’m learning to compromise.”
“Yes, I suppose Tristan is quite the challenge.” She winks at me. “So can I see your layout? I’m excited to live somewhere that I can enjoy flowers.”
“Of course. I’ll go get it.”
This is going much better than I could have hoped for. I find my book in the great room, and the cover of it is rigid against my belly as I tuck it under my arm and return to the kitchen. Tristan is setting up the tea. Once he brings it to the table, he walks over to the cupboard, and dishes rattle as he pulls some down.
The aroma of my nighttime jasmine blend floats toward me, and I take a sip. My mate even put in the right amount of honey. Tristan sits next to me, and he sets down small plates with pieces of leftover cake. I communicate with him, “You take good care of me.”
“That’s because I appreciate you. Can you tell my mother loves you, too?”
“She’s lovely. I’m not sure what you were afraid of.”
I glance at Tristan, and his mouth is a tight line. He averts his gaze and still doesn’t explain what is so awful about the pleasant woman sitting across from me.
I share the charts with Helga, and when she asks about how to plant things in the ground, Tristan pulls up an online video. She says, “My gosh, I hope you’ll let me help you with this project.”
“I’d love your help. We can do it tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Do you have enough tools?”
Tristan answers her, “There’s an entire section of the garage devoted to tools. If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.”
“Wonderful.” Skin rasps as Helga rubs her hands together. “I can’t wait to dig into the dirt.”
A yawn escapes me, and I cover my mouth, trying to hide it.
Tristan says, “It’s late, Mom, and Annie and I have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Oh, so it is. Well, let me clean this up for you when I’m done. I must be on arctic time, because I’m wide awake.” She speaks to me, and I gaze into the crystal-blue eyes that are like Tristan’s. “Would you m
ind if I looked through your design book?”
“Not at all. I’m always excited to share gardening with like-minded people.”
Helga reaches out to me. “We’re going to get along well, my dear.”
I take her hand. “I think so, too. It’s been so nice getting to know you, Helga.”
Tristan leans down and kisses her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mom.” His voice is stern when he asks, “You will go to bed, won’t you?”
She huffs, “Don’t be silly. Of course I will.”
I frown, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. My mate takes my hand as we make our way up the stairs. When we’re in our room, I say, “I keep waiting for the difficult woman you expected. But from where I sit, your mother is a treasure.”
“You’re seeing the best of her. When she’s like this, it’s hard to believe she’s crazy.” A drawer thuds open, and he pulls out a pair of boxers.
I shake my head at his dramatic words and step out of my pants. The soft cotton of an oversized T-shirt slithers over my body when I put it on. Tristan goes to the bathroom. When I get there, mint wafts up to me as he hands me my toothbrush prepared with paste. Water rushes as we brush and perform our nightly rituals together.
When I begin to untangle my hair, Tristan steps behind me. His fingers flirt with the hem of my shirt, and he leans down to nibble on my shoulder. “We have a house full of people now.”
I recall an incident in the room adjacent to the kitchen where people were eating lunch. “That didn’t stop you when we were at my brother’s.” Fortunately, children don’t get their heightened senses until puberty, when they come into werebear ways, and we can hide our lovemaking sounds from the girls.
One of his hands moves between my legs, and I widen my stance as I lean back. He says, “Yes, but I wasn’t in the same house with my mother and children.”